


Ginger Tea and Cucumbers

by distant_rose



Series: Little Pirates [21]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Killian is a dork who loves children, Swan-Jones Family, Unplanned Pregnancy, and Emma can't get a break, mother-daughter bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 02:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11796441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distant_rose/pseuds/distant_rose
Summary: For the past week, Emma has been so sick that she’s convinced that she might be tethered to her toilet by an invisible cord. Her mother and husband seem to have a better idea what’s going on with her than she does.





	Ginger Tea and Cucumbers

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been awhile since I updated, mainly because I’ve been working on my dissertation for school. Anyway, I couldn’t find it in myself to do the Wes prompt, so I did the next in my line of requests. Awhile back I had anon ask: ““I know you had mentioned Emma had a hard pregnancy with Beth and wondered if you would write about that?” So yeah...I'm back.

Hell isn’t a place. Hell is a state of being.

Emma Swan had decided this as she was purging her stomach into the toilet. She had been horribly sick all week and at this point she was convinced that there was some invisible tether keeping her attached to her bathroom. She had been camped inside of it for the past few days and she was starting to think that it was in dire need of a remodel. Sunshine yellow was getting a bit too old.

On top of the possible remodel, Emma was now convinced that dry toast was the worst breakfast choice in the world. Crunchy wheat bread was not something that came back up smoothly and she was now hundred percent certain that there were pieces of grain or crumbs lodged in the back of her throat. It was, all and all, a horrible feeling and there was no other way to describe it other than hell.

The only comfort she felt in that moment came in the form of the cool porcelain pressing against her cheek. A part of her was grossed out that she was resting her head on a toilet seat, the other half was beyond caring.

As another bout of bile and bread came back up, a hand curled itself into Emma’s hair, pulling it out of the thin line of vomit expelling from her mouth. At first, she thought it was her husband, but then a small slender hand reached forward to give the toilet a flush.

“Sorry. I needed a courtesy flush. It kinda reeks in here,” her mother called softly over her shoulder.

Emma closed her eyes, sighing a bit as the hand in her hair began caressing the top of her head. She leaned back into the touch. It felt almost like heaven.

“Sorry. I got used to the smell…” she croaked, voice raspy from her near constant retching.

“Oh Emma…” Her mother’s voice was soft and full of sympathy. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. I know you haven’t been feeling well lately. I’m glad Killian told me to check in on you while he took the boys to daycare.”

“Not feeling well is an understatement,” Emma groaned. “I feel like the little girl from the Exorcist.”

“Well, I brought over some ginger tea and some other goodies for you. Let’s get you off the floor. Sound good?” Snow said, still smoothing Emma’s hair.

“You’re my savior,” Emma groaned, pulling herself off the floor.

“No,” her mother said with a gentle shake of her head. “I’m just your mother.”

Though Emma was fully capable of picking herself off up and walking on her own, Snow guided her with a gentle arm slung across her shoulders. She led Emma into the kitchen. and helped her into a chair. Normally, Emma would bristle under such babying, but it felt good to cared for a bit after being constantly sick for the past week straight.

Snow gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before busying herself in Emma’s kitchen, grabbing two mugs from the main cabinet and riffling in the numerous paper bags on the counter. Emma’s eyes went wide as she took in how many bags were.

“I thought you said some goodies. This isn’t goodies. This is…I don’t even know what this is,” Emma replied, gesturing to all the bags.

“It’s groceries,” Snow responded, taking out the electric kettle from beneath the sink. “Killian said you were out of food so I took it upon myself to make sure you were all eating.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Emma sighed, massaging her temples. On top of constant vomiting, she was suffering from a ridiculous migraine. It just didn’t seem to stop.

“Of course, I did. I’m your mother,” Snow scoffed. “And your husband said the same thing. Put up a good token fight too before he handed over a grocery list. You’re both too stubborn for your own good.”

“Sorry. We’re just…” Emma tried to find the right words but kept coming up short. “It’s just old habits die hard, I guess.”

There was a flicker of hurt on her mother’s face. It was there for only a moment, but Emma saw it nonetheless. She had been living in Storybrooke for seven years now, but the self-reliance she had built up over the decades still remained. It was even worse with Killian who had relied only on himself for centuries. They were terrible at asking for help, much less accepting it unprompted.

Snow put the tea bags in the mugs before filling them with water. She then went searching through her bags and took out a pack of crackers.

“Well, we’re going to keep working on those habits,” Snow said with a smile as she placed the packet in front of Emma. “Because you both have family now. And our family sticks together as we have for the past few years now.”

Snow left the table to bring back the mugs of tea. Emma had never been much of a tea or coffee person, but if the tea would stay down instead of coming back up, then she would drink it. Tentatively she brought it to her lips and took a small sip. Emma wrinkled her nose. She didn’t care much for the taste, but she was quite relieved when she didn’t immediately feel the urge to spit it back out.

“I know, I know,” Emma said, putting her hand on top of her mother’s. “Trust me, I know and I’m grateful and I love you. You’re great, but sometimes the subconscious forgets it.”

“Good. Now eat those crackers. You need something in your stomach and it really helps tap down the nausea. Ginger tea is also great. It did me wonders when I had morning sickness with you and Ruthie.”

Emma’s eyes bulged again at the term ‘morning sickness.’ She suddenly felt like she had ash in her mouth along with the underlying aftertaste of vomit.

“Fascinating,” she muttered, opening the package of crackers. “But this isn’t morning sickness.”

“It isn’t?” Snow asked with a delicate arching of her brow. “It’s not morning sickness?”

“No,” Emma scoffed. “I’ve never gotten morning sickness before. I mean I was just constantly dizzy with the boys, but never like this. This is just a nasty bug and we probably shouldn’t have let the boys go to daycare. The other parents are going to hate us.”

“Every pregnancy is different, Emma,” Snow said patiently. “I was constantly craving salty foods with you. I had none of that with Neal. And all I wanted was Mexican food with Ruthie and god, I had so much heartburn. And can you honestly tell me that it’s not a possibility? And that you haven’t felt other symptoms? Felt a little off? Sore boobs? Feeling tired? Craving anything?”

“I’m constantly tired, I’m a mother. I have a nineteen-year-old, a four-year-old and a two-year-old. And sure, I’ve been a little…sensitive…in the chest area but I’ve switched pills a few times and the doctor said that it’s a side effect of that.”

“That would do it. You know those don’t work right away when you switch,” Snow replied in an almost lecturing tone. “I thought you were trying though…”

Emma snorted.

“No, we weren’t trying. We aren’t trying. We were very much done after Wes. Two little ones are more than enough,” Emma replied, rubbing at her forehead and sighing.

And she had barely wanted two before. She hadn’t really planned on having anymore kids aside from Henry, but three months after her wedding, they discovered Harrison. Harrison was going to be their own one and only until Emma kept discovering articles about the benefits of siblings and how only child had a tendency of ending up spoiled. Watching Aurora and Philip’s son have a meltdown and toss cereal boxes had been enough to know that a second child was necessary to keep them grounded. But she had planned on being done after Wes came into the world.

“Well, from where I’m standing, you weren’t done all things considered,” Snow said, now raising both eyebrows at her.

“I’m not pregnant, Mom,” Emma groaned, resisting the urge to smack her head against the table.

“Not pregnant,” Snow repeated.

Without any other prompting, Snow got up and began riffling through the bags again. Emma watched her, brows knitted together in confusion. When Snow returned to the table, she placed an all too familiar cardboard box in front of her.

“If you’re not, then you’ll have no problem taking a test,” Snow said after a moment.

“You bought me a test?” Emma asked in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not kidding. That’s why I bought it. Emma, you cried last week when you couldn’t pick up the boys on time and you fell asleep in the middle of the day when you were over our place on Sunday. I would bet the entire farm on the existence of a new prince or princess right now,” Snow replied, shoving the box forward until it hit Emma’s forearm.

“A new little pirate. Not a princess or a prince. Killian wouldn’t stand for it,” Emma muttered under her breath.

She hated herself a bit for everything saying that and humoring her mother’s assumptions. Though it was true. Killian was well on his way to turning the boys in little buccaneers with the amount of times he took them on the Jolly and taught them how to sail. She had so many pictures on her phone of dark heads and a blonde one bent over with rope between their fingers as Killian taught them to tie knots.

She couldn’t look at her mother, just glared down at the box. She couldn’t be pregnant. She couldn’t be. Though it would be just her luck if she was. She didn’t have the best track record with contraception. Henry had been the result of Neal’s old favorite “pull out” method. Harrison’s conception, on the other hand, was the result of not taking her birth control when she was in the mental institution – something she had conveniently forgotten when she had been reunited with her husband in the wake of the Final Battle. Both of those instances could be understood given the mitigating circumstances, but if she were somehow pregnant this time around, then it could be chalked up to nothing except irresponsibility.

“A pirate prince,” Snow replied with a shrug. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

“It doesn’t matter. It won’t mean anything because I’m not pregnant, Mom,” Emma replied, getting frustrated.

“Alright, Emma, alright,” Snow responded, handing up her hands in mock surrender. “You don’t want to be pregnant, but I honestly think you might be. Just take the test and prove me wrong.”

“Fine,” Emma snapped, giving her mother a vicious glare and violently snatching the box off the table.

Without waiting for her mother to reply, she climbed out of her chair and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her like an angry teenager. She regretted closing the door as soon as she did because she was once again reacquainted with the smell of her own sick. She dropped the box suddenly and gripped the sink for balance as a sense of dizziness and nausea returned.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

She swallowed heavily, making eye contact with herself in the mirror. God, she really hoped this was just some nasty illness. Doubt was starting to creep into her mind as she regarded herself. She knew this dizziness. It normally wasn’t companied by constant vomit, but she knew it. Fuck. She hoped she was wrong. She would never live down her mother if Snow was right. It would also suck so hard if she was pregnant again since she literally just got off all the baby weight gained from her pregnancies with Harrison and Wes.

Reluctantly, she let go of the sink and sat down on the toilet, gripping the back of her head with her hands and staring at the test sitting on the floor. If Emma didn’t know better, she would say the cardboard box was mocking her. She almost wanted to kick it but that would feel like giving in.

“I’m not scared of you,” she muttered under her breath, picking up the box and ripping out the test.

She tossed the remnants of the box and the directions against the door in a careless manner that she knew would annoy the hell out of her husband. But Killian wasn’t here and she was in the mood to be a little destructive. She didn’t need the directions anyhow. She had taken these tests more times than she cares to admit.

She ignored the shaking of her hands, she undid her jeans and pulled down her underwear. She took a few breaths, trying calm herself. She was going to fine. This was just her mother being paranoid. Everything was going to be fine.

It was a lie. And she knew it was a lie.

She almost didn’t want to urinate, but she forced herself to. Her nose scrunched a bit as some landed on her fingers as she held the test in place. There was honestly very little dignity in these tests and she wished there was another home test alternative - preferably one that didn’t involve peeing on a stick.

Every cell in her body seemed to be vibrating as she stared down at the test in her hands, waiting. She didn’t want to so much as blink until the results came.

“Come on, negative, negative, negative, negative,” Emma chanted under her breath, her knee bouncing violently as she mentally tried to will a negative test result into existence.

A small pink pulse sign appeared. It was faint at first, but it grew more prominent as the seconds passed. The blood seemed to drain from Emma’s cheeks as she stared down at it. She dropped it and immediately pushed it as far away from her with her toes as she could.

“Fuck,” she whispered, raking her hands through her hair. She couldn’t stop staring at the pink pulse sign.

There was a knock on the door and Emma nearly jumped out of her skin, yelping and clutching the bottom of the toilet seat for dear life.

“Emma? Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while now,” Snow called.

“Yeah…” Emma’s voice left like it was disconnected from her body. “Just give me a moment.”

With trembling hands, Emma pulled back up her underwear and jeans all while still staring at the positive pregnancy test on the floor. It was official - she was the absolute worst being responsible about birth control. She was on her third accidental kid. She should have just gotten her tubes tied or something after Wes.

Shit.

She picked up the test with the tips of her fingers as if she was touching something radioactive. Delicately, she tossed into the trash. She didn’t want to look at it anymore. It had given her the information that she sought, unwanted as it was, and now it was useless.

Emma turned on the faucet and began washing her hands vigorously, losing herself in the motion of rubbing soap between her fingers. When she was done, she splashed a bit of water on her face in hopes of making herself look fresher and more alert. It just made her look like a drown rat.

A pregnant drown rat.

She let out a loud sigh, blowing her hair out of her face. It was time to face the music. She felt like a teenager again, leaving the bathroom to tell one of the security guards the news. Except this time, it wasn’t a security guard. It was her mother.

Snow was looking at her expectantly when she left the bathroom. One look at her face and Emma had to avert her eyes to the ground. She closed the bathroom door behind her, pushed herself against the wood and let out another loud sigh that would make any teenager proud.

“So…?” her mother prompted, waiting for answer.

Emma rubbed her face into her hands, massaging her temples.

“Well, you were right,” she muttered. “It was positive.”

A wide smile bloomed across Snow’s face and she did a small little shuffling dance with her feet, bringing her hands up to her face for a moment. As soon as her little dance was done, she moved forward and enveloped Emma in a fierce hug.

“Oh my god, Emma! This is so exciting! Another baby! Wow!”

Emma tried to grin and match her enthusiasm but failed in a spectacular fashion. Her smile was like a broken light bulb; it flickered weakly on her face for a moment before disappearing entirely. She couldn’t find it in herself to pretend to be excited, even for her mother.

Her mother noticed her expression because then her own smile faltered and she looked at Emma in concern.

“You’re not happy about this, are you?”

“I wasn’t planning on having any more kids, Mom. We were supposed to be done. I was supposed to be done. This is my third unplanned kid. What does that say about me?” Emma said, trying to keep her voice from wavering.

“It doesn’t say anything about you, Sweetie. No one needs to know that. Children are blessings. It’s going to be okay. I mean, I can’t imagine Killian getting too upset about it. In fact, I think he will be thrilled,” Snow said gently, rubbing her hand against Emma’s back.

Emma leaned into her mother’s touch, resting her head on Snow’s shoulder. It felt good for once to be mothered, instead of doing the mothering.

Killian’s reaction was the least of Emma’s concerns. There wasn’t anything that Killian Jones loved more than being ‘Dad.’ He loved their little ones fiercely and though he had never said it, Emma was certain that he had wanted more children. He had been gracious and respectful when she said she was done not long after Wes was born, but she had always caught him looking at babies and other small children.

“That’s true,” Emma said with small almost hysterical laugh. “If it were up to him, we would be the Weasleys.”

“See? Everything’s going to be okay. It’s going to be fine. I mean, Killian’s going to be fine with it. The boys are going to be excited. It’s not like you don’t have enough room. I mean you still have three guest bedrooms. And you’ll have more than enough help if you need it. Your father and I are always willing to lend a hand and so is Henry.”

“I know, Mom, I know. I know all of those things. I know it’s not a big deal, but you of all people should know that pregnancy is hard. And if this week has been any indication, this is one is going to be harder than both Harrison and Wes’s pregnancies were, and those weren’t easy pregnancies to begin with. What if I have another giant kid like Harrison or a breach baby like Wes? I’m not sure I can handle it as well as I did when I was thirty-five. I just thought these days were over. The cravings? The dizziness? Sleepless nights? Breastfeeding? I thought it was all over, but here I am. Shit. I’m going to gain all that weight I just lost,” Emma groaned.

“It’s going to be okay,” Snow said again. This time the optimism in her mother’s voice noticeably wavered.

“Maybe, but it’s going to suck. This is the worst morning sickness in the world and it’s only been a week. Whoever labeled it as morning sickness needs to be shot in the face because this isn’t morning sickness, it’s every hour sickness,” Emma exclaimed, banging her head against Snow’s shoulder.

“Well, that’s what happened with me when I had Ruthie remember? I was sick all the time until I hit the second trimester. That tends to happen with girls. I bet all of your father’s sheep that this one is a little princess. We should get your grandmother’s pendant.”

Emma remembered her mother’s surprise pregnancy with her younger sister vividly. It was half the reason that she told Killian that she didn’t want any more children after Wes. She honestly thought that her mother was possessed half the time with how crazy her mood swings got and how quickly she would race to the bathroom.

And now, here she was doing the same thing. Christ.

“Please don’t,” Emma sighed. “Look, you may have already accepted the idea that there’s going to be a third Jones to the crew, but I haven’t. I literally just found out. Let me just process it. Okay?”

“Right, right, sorry. I got ahead of myself there,” Snow replied with a nervous laugh. “What do you want? You feeling okay?”

“I’m feeling…overwhelmed…and still a little nauseous. Right now, I just want to lay on the couch with my mother and watch television.”

“We can do that. We can definitely do that,” Snow replied as she slowly guided them into Emma’s living room.

Emma’s mother stayed for another hour trying to talk Emma into being more excited about the new baby while they curled on the couch with Emma’s head in Snow’s lap. Snow ran her fingers through Emma’s hair as she spoke. While Emma found her mother’s ministrations relaxing, she couldn’t find it in herself to reach the level of overjoyed that her mother was looking for.

It wasn’t that Emma hated the baby. She didn’t. Emma was quite certain that she could never hate anything that was part of her and it wasn’t necessarily the child’s fault. It didn’t ask to exist. However, that didn’t mean that Emma wasn’t disappointed in herself and her lack of responsibility. Aside from that, this pregnancy was already shaping out to be the worst in history. In the past week, she had more fluid purged from every orifice of her body than she had in a lifetime.

When her mother left, Emma’s stomach finally made itself known again. Though she was still nauseous, all she wanted was cucumbers, preferably in the form of sandwiches. She immediately padded into the kitchen, hoping that her mother had bought at least one or two cucumbers on her grocery stop.

There weren’t one or two cucumbers. There were seven. Emma couldn’t believe her luck as she took one of them and began washing it. She hummed a happy tune under her breath as she began slicing the cucumber, occasionally popping a slice into her mouth.

She still felt overwhelmed about the baby, but her mood had been improved by the amount of cucumbers in the refrigerator. She would be able to indulge in her current favorite snack for at least a good few days.

Emma was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear the front door open and let out a loud yelp as a pair of arms encircled themselves around her waist. She turned viciously, intending on using the knife in her against her attacker, but stopped when she saw who it was.

“Jesus Christ, Killian! You scared the shit out of me!” she exclaimed, dropping the knife to the floor and shaking her head at him.

Killian merely chuckled.

“Planning on carving me up there, were you Swan?” he asked, still chuckling as he leaned forward and kissed her nose.

Emma scowled at him, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. She was entirely unamused with his teasing.

“Seriously Killian, I could have hurt you,” she replied with a half-hearted glare.

“But you didn’t, Swan, and even if you had, it would have only been a small flesh wound,” Killian replied, hand and prosthetic rising from their placement on her hips to smooth over her shoulders.

“I regret showing you that movie,” Emma muttered under her breath.

“It was quite peculiar, but very enjoyable,” Killian replied, laughter still present in his tone.

Emma rolled her eyes, but squeezed his shoulders affectionately before leaning her head against his chest and taking in the smell of leather and spicy soap. She had always liked the way he smelled, but now it was just shy overwhelming. And now she knew why. Pregnancy had a way of heightening the senses. The mental acknowledgement of her condition made her throat constrict for a moment.

“You feeling any better, love?” Killian asked quietly, gently placing his nose in her hair.

“I’m getting there. At least I have my appetite back. I was going to make myself a cucumber sandwich,” Emma murmured, closing her eyes.

“Why don’t you go sit and I’ll make it for you, love?”

Emma opened her eyes, scrunching her nose at the suggestion. She lightly pushed against his chest so that she could meet his eyes.

“I can make my own sandwich, Killian,” she replied a little sternly.

“I know you can,” he replied, taking her hand in his own and running his thumb affectionately across her wedding ring. “But sometimes a man just wants to do something nice for his wife, especially when she hasn’t been feeling the best. Just let me do this.”

“Fine, fine,” Emma said with a heavy sigh, putting her hands up. “If it makes you happy, you can make me the damn sandwich.”

“Thanks, love. Now go sit,” Killian chuckled, kissing her another kiss this time on the forehead.

Emma rolled her eyes again, pulling away fully this time to take a seat at the dinner table where the crackers and the two mugs of ginger tea had been left forgotten. She picked up her mug again and took another sip. The tea was cold, but for some reason, Emma found it more bearable.

“That doesn’t look like hot chocolate. What are you drinking there, Swan?”  Killian asked, taking the knife off the floor and putting it into the sink.

“Ginger tea,” Emma sighed. “Mom made it for me to help me stop throwing up. Not much of a tea person, but it kinda helps.”

“I’m glad she stopped over. We were getting a bit low on food. I think the boys were going to stage a mutiny if they had to eat another dinner of macaroni and cheese and hot dogs.”

Emma blinked.

“You fed our sons nothing but mac ’n’ cheese and hot dogs for the past few days? Seriously Killian?” Emma asked incredulously.

“You were sick and I didn’t have time to go shopping, love. I mean with patrol, fielding all the complaints, dealing with Regina, the boys, cleaning the house, making sure you were alive and everything. I’m a good captain, but I’m not that good, Swan,” Killian replied with a shrug.

“Killian Jones admitting he can’t do everything. Now that is something I never thought I would hear,” Emma replied with a small chuckle.

“Stranger things have happened,” Killian replied easily, popping a piece of cucumber in his mouth.

Emma’s eyes zeroed in on the cucumber slice and a wave of possessiveness came over her. A part of her wanted to get up take all the slices away from him and hoard them. She gave him a hard stare.

“If you keep eating them, there isn’t going to be any left for me,” she said pointedly.

“Sorry, love. I wasn’t thinking. I should have known better by now to get between you and your food.”

“Damn straight,” Emma replied. “And if you’re having trouble remembering things, remember that I like the bread”- “You like your bread extra toasted and you use cream cheese instead of mayonnaise with the cucumbers. A little bit of butter, garlic salt and pepper. Crust cut off,” Killian interrupted her, giving her a knowing look over his shoulder.

Emma blinked.

“I’m actually kinda impressed you remember my weird sandwich choices.”

“I’m not,” Killian said casually. “I’ve made you loads of these before. All you ate when you were pregnant with Wes was things with cucumbers or Indian food. Same with Harrison too.”

All the blood rushed from Emma’s face for the second time. Killian knew. How the hell did he know? She had only known for a few hours. She dropped the mug from her hands.

“You know,” she breathed.

Killian stopped cutting.

“I suspected hence why I asked your mother to buy so many cucumbers. I mean we ordered Indian from Mowgli’s three times last week and you’ve been going through cucumbers like water…and there were other things. Though, I’m still waiting on a confirmation…from you.”

Emma got up from her chair and cautiously approached him, wrapping her arms around his chest and leaning her head against his shoulder blades. His hand found one of her hands, took it and interlaced their fingers. He gave it a good squeeze and Emma closed her eyes.

“How long have you suspected?” she asked quietly.

“For a week and a half. That night when you won’t let me touch your breasts because they hurt. You said it was the pill changing, but it was a niggling thought in the back of my mind. Then it was the Indian food. And the cucumbers. Then you got so ill this week. I was pretty certain, but I didn’t want to say anything until you felt comfortable telling me. I thought you might have needed some time to process it considering the little happy dance you did when you stopped breastfeeding Wes.”

An unnamed emotion welled up inside of Emma at his words and she tried to shut her eyes tighter against the threat of tears. She honestly hated crying and she knew it was the hormones, but for some reason it made it that much worse.

Killian seemed to sense her change in mood because he let go of her hand and turned so that they were facing each other. He wrapped his blunted arm around her waist and brought his only hand up to brush against her cheek. He placed a kiss on her forehead again and gathered her against his chest. She placed her head over his heart, listening to it beat.

“Hey…it’s okay…it’s going to be okay,” he murmured into her hair. “We’re quite the team, Swan. We can handle anything. This isn’t something to be afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid…It’s just…Killian, do you know when I found out? I found out today. As in a few hours ago, my mother made me take a pregnancy test. I didn’t think even about it. You and my mother suspected before I even did. We didn’t plan this and I didn’t even know and I just feel like I don’t even know my own body right now.”

“Hey…” Killian said softly, rubbing her back. “You need to give yourself a break, love. I’m not surprised you didn’t notice. You have a million things going on at once. You’re the Savior and you’re the Sheriff. And you’re also mother to three boys, two of them being little ones and one in college. With how much stress you put on yourself, it’s no wonder you didn’t see what you didn’t want to see. Be easy on yourself, love. It’s going to be okay.”

“You make it sound so easy,” she murmured, closing her eyes again.

“Because it is. It’s you and me, love. Finding the sun and all that. Now, we’ve been beating around the bush. You have some news for me and I want to hear what it is.” Killian’s voice was but a low murmur.

Emma’s breath hitched. She had acknowledged the reality, but she hadn’t said those two words aloud.

“Killian…” she started, licking her cracked lips. “I know I said we were done with kids and we totally didn’t plan this at all, but I’m pregnant. We’re got another little pirate on the way.”

Killian brought both his hand and prosthetic up to Emma’s cheeks and tilted her head up so that he could capture her lips in kiss that was borderline rough in its intensity. When he broke it, he brushed his nose against hers and Emma couldn’t help but smile a bit. Despite her reservations and anxiety about the situation, Killian’s obvious excitement was infectious in a way that her mother’s hadn’t been.

“Oh my god, you’re such a man. You’re totally crowing right now that you did this to me. Feel real proud of yourself, don’t you?” Emma said, hitting his shoulder.

“Nothing wrong with children, Swan. Planned or not,” Killian replied, placing another kiss on her hairline.

“Says you. You’re not the one who has be pregnant,” Emma groaned. “If this week is any indication. This pregnancy is going to suck.”

“Maybe, but I will be with you every step of the way and who knows, we might end up with a little pretty blonde girl and green eyes who looks just like Mummy,” Killian said with another kiss.

Emma nearly snorted aloud. Killian had been vying for a little girl from the beginning. It wasn’t that he was disappointed with the boys, but he was just something that he had always wanted. A part of Emma hoped this new one was a girl for his sake, though all she seemed to pop out was boys who looked exactly like their fathers.

“Mom thinks this one is going to be a girl, but girl or not, this one is definitely the last one. I swear, I’m going to get my tubes tied after this one is out,” Emma said,

“You said the same thing after Wes,” Killian chuckled.

“I’m serious this time,” Emma said. “I’m not turning into Mrs. Weasley, Killian.”

“Hey now,” Killian tutted. “There is nothing wrong with Mrs. Weasley. She had a great family, was the ultimate mother and the ultimate witch. She took down Bellatrix LeStrange and that is no small feat. She’s a true hero. Right after Sirius Black and Hagrid of course.”

Emma shook her head, trying hard not to laugh.

“I married a dork. An absolute dork.”

“Those books are fantastic, Swan, and I’ve read a lot of great books in my day. I can’t wait until the little ones are old enough to read them, including this one,” he replied, bringing his hand down and placing it against her still flat abdomen.

“You’re really okay with this, aren’t you?”

“I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again, Swan, there’s nothing I love more than raising kids with you and I will be happy with whatever number you give me whether it be two, three or four…” he replied, giving her kiss just above her ear.

“Four? No way. That’s just being…” Emma trailed, trying to find the right words.

“Visionary?” Killian prompted.

Emma snorted.

“Or something.”


End file.
